The Apocalypse
by Spirituality
Summary: A kiss was one thing. Love? To Inuyasha, that was pushing it to extremes. Well, at least tha'ts how it was before Kagome got engaged. AU


_You can think of this as a continuation of my other one shot, __Crushed_. _But you needn't worry. It can be read independently, as well. Blowing off steam here! Bear with me. Besides, this could turn out to be a long ride. Why not hop aboard now? Enjoyy._

**OOO**

The world could have been exploding. Every mountain could have collapsing, every polar ice cap melting, raising the seas to replace the earth above it. The sky could have been falling, slaughtering every living being underneath. World War III, the Apocalypse..

None would have mattered to him in the least.

Golden jewels stared ahead, unfaltering. Flames of fury licked his irises, blazing, scathing, _roaring.. _They threatened to consume all that was him, rape his senses until nerve endings could no longer process feeling, numbing, _overwhelming.._

He hadn't known when the halls had emptied; completing the image of how desolate the flames had left his insides in their vengeful wake. Infinite anxiety drowned in the sea that was his rage, clawing at the walls of his body as if begging him not to let it disappear, not to let the rage reign.

It died, despite its clinging desperation. And as with the humanity that trailed along after it, he allowed it. Anger was absolute, now.

Inuyasha tried desperately to push away the image that had become his mind's only function: Play, pause, rewind, play, pause, rewind..

His knuckles bleached white.

_He could smell the stench of that mutt, the mongrel. In all honesty, he couldn't find anything that smelled worse than the mangy, flea ridden _scoundrel_ that seemed to be permanently frozen in heat, the lust he constantly emanated disgusting and down right fucking _nauseating_… And for the sake of truth, he didn't really wish to. Anything that surpassed his stench would probably be the death of all his senses as he knew them._

_And worse, there was Kagome's floral scent, wafting and wrapping around it like a fucking blanket._

_It repelled him instantly, magnet to magnet. His intent to find and pester her (like he always did) flew out the window the moment their scents were close enough to alert his nose. It was always so suffocating in this damn school, he wish he would have known sooner.._

_It irritated him, really. How often the bastard seemed to be hanging around her, now. They were a couple—sure, dandy, they wouldn't last long— But he couldn't—wouldn't—endure such trash just to be in her presence. Catching up with her later was his only option, obviously. If he strode passed, however, he was sure she wouldn't even notice..There was no other way to get around them now._

_His eyes stared straight again, blatant in his attempt to ignore the couple amidst the sea of people, entwined as if they would be ripped from each other any moment. It was a disgusting sight really, the way they wrapped around one another, the smaller kisses that signed like signatures after every inexplicably longer one..He quelled urge to gag aloud. Had it just been a week ago since the incident at his house? Had it been so little time since it was his own lips that covered hers? He cringed at the direction of his thoughts. Damn it all, the fucking bitch. All he wanted was to push everything into some sense of normalcy, not drive her to this. Had his rejection really hurt her so? Forced her into the arms of a boyfriend they both knew she didn't love as much as she loved him? The Kagome he knew had never been one for such bullshit. Well, not _this much, _anyway._

_Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting. Ugh! He could barely take it. Why wouldn't they _get the fuck out of his sight_?_

"_I love you, honey." He whispered lowly._

_Inuyasha moved faster._

"_And I, you, koi." _

_He could feel his legs tense to sprint. He pushed himself against the opposing wall as hard as he could, aiming for as much distance as he could manage..He was passed the half mark now, completely unnoticed by the couple that was immersed in themselves, and he could feel the fingers of relief pulling him along.._

"_I can't wait to call you my wife."_

_His hands curled into fists. He just had a few more feet before they were completely out of earshot and.._

_If he hadn't been so consumed, irritated and bitter, he would have heard the quiver in her giggle, the uncertainty and raw _pain_ in her answer. "Well, 'fiancé' will certainly quell you for now."_

_His body stilled then, painfully so. As if it were being controlled by another, it swiveled slowly, robotically.._

_He wanted to look away as she reached up to caress his face. Nothing in the world would have pleased him more to avert the gaze that landed upon the shimmer that practically _engulfed her entire fucking left hand, _the strained smile on a face that belonged to_ him, _the happiness that the mutt was just _borrowing_ until he figured out what he really wanted from her_..

_He could have died as the bell rang shrilly, and they bound away obliviously. _

_His heart stuttered. He couldn't feel his lips screaming, "No, no, no, no, NO..", only vaguely hearing it as if it were someone calling him from down the hall, his echo perhaps..He was sure that the engrossing dread only meant that one thing._

_Yep, he could have just about died._

He didn't feel.

He couldn't tell why the world was rushing passed his vision in a blur, a plethora of colors that had no coherency, no consistency, no _true purpose _for occupying his vision. He didn't want to see anything. Anything but her, dammit!

Shocked gasps rang in the recesses of his mind. But they were so far away, so insignificant, that he needn't worry about reaching into the dungeons to find them and make sense of something that didn't really _matter_..

Her blue eyes were beacons as they, too, widened upon his thunderous entrance.

Her wrist was so small in his own, so hot and _fragile.._

So completely not his.

He couldn't even hear himself. Like watching a silent film behind the muted barrier of his own mind, he could see him shoving her own hand in her face, the ring dazzling and gorgeous and unbelievably _pristine_ and _real.._He could feel the vibrations as angry poison spilled from his lips, leaving them hot, burning, _blazing.._The diamond was just as equally disgusting to look as their horrid, suffocating, tainted happiness because he _knew_ she thought of him—Inuyasha!—when they kissed, touched, and fucked, dammit! He knew that in her eyes, her boyfriend's shitty brown hair was really stark silver, his onyx eyes a brilliant golden..He knew she wanted him. Always would!

_How the fuck could she do this to herself?!_

He was pretty sure, from behind the lines of his numbing vigilance, that he told her all of this. And much, much more.

Her eyes—first widened supernaturally—were narrowed into vengeful slits by the time the vibrations ceased, replaced by labored, quivering gasps of air..

Her explosion was vicious.

The hand that connected with his face—Twice! Twice, damn her!— waved in the air frantically with her other arm (had that redness around her wrist come from him?) , her face twisted in a rage that he had never before witnessed. She swung her hand in his face tauntingly, screeching, , yelling, _screaming_ nonexistent words, as the symbol of utter and complete debauchery glinted happily in the dull hallway light, taunting him as well.. And like himself, the flames ate up her face, her eyes, her lips..

Her lips.

He could feel the hunger grow substantially, suddenly consuming _everything_ that composed his entire existence.

Fuck, it was her _lips_!

Coldness crept through him slowly, slithering around his innards like a coy snake in the middle of the night..He could feel the tendons pull in resistance as they uncurled from their tight fists..The frigid the serpent was shocking, alerting all his senses of its growing presence, the hungry _need_ that made up its entire being as it was expanding, stretching, eating him alive..

And so he kissed her.

If that's what any witness would have called it.

He was none too subtle, miles away from gentle as he mashed her face to his, melding, molding, _merging_..He paid no attention to her frantic, panicking struggles as his hands slid underneath her shirt, pulling her closer, closer, closer.. He greedily devoured her supple appendages because if he admitted to himself, he could get passed the stink. He could get passed the taste of _taboo_ that coated her tongue, could urge himself to forget the fucking jewelry that had tangled itself in his hair, snarling, burning, hissing, a constant reminder..

He knew she would give in. His hands had her bra unclasped in mere seconds, his hands paving a burning trail to her breasts. And still, he pressed himself closer, pushing her towards the threshold he knew was still so vivid in her mind.

And when she bucked against him—her pelvis against his thighs because really, she had never been very tall—her own moan vibrating the one entity that they had become, he rejoiced.

There and then, with the feeling of hot, soft flesh underneath his fingertips, ragged, angry moans slipping down his throat, feelings of anger slipping away and being replaced by a raw _lust_ and _need_ that scared him shitless, his mind suddenly came to term with his subconscious all in one whirling, world-shattering movement.

He would not let her go. Ever, ever, ever.

If she had to wait on him forever, he would _never_ let her stray from him. Friendship and future be damned.

And if the fist that had him sprawling to the cold tile had come any sooner, perhaps he wouldn't have made this decision, attached her to him so indefinitely. Perhaps he would have stared wide eyed at the brown eyes of the angry wolf with hatred and remorse instead of springing up and lunging at him with a feral snarl. Perhaps blood wouldn't have painted the walls, the ceiling, the ground..

But as turns out, the verdict had been made, and he was more than willing to fight for it.

Even if a life was lost in the process.

**OOO**

_My best friend is bound to get a girlfriend, soon. I just know it. This single thought spurred this entire 1,500 plus word excerpt. I'm being a baby, really, I am. I'm not really this.._depressing_, guys. Not all the time, anyway. But passion (even if it sucks) inspires most writers. The result? This. _

_I'm a lot like Inuyasha, it seems. _

_We'll see what other passion inspires the continuation (if there is one)._

_Love you all! _

_Spirit._


End file.
